


what never was is now

by ionsquare



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionsquare/pseuds/ionsquare
Summary: This is a story about friendship and forgiveness.And learning how to live through immortality.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nile Freeman
Comments: 50
Kudos: 377





	what never was is now

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 3 hours. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, but also it is beta'd? Beta reading is one of my hobbies, but I asked no one else to read this over. Putting it all on the line with this one.
> 
> This one's for Dizzzy.

They celebrate Nile’s first birthday with them in Budapest.

Budapest was Nile’s idea, or rather, her father’s idea. He loved Budapest, always regaling Nile with stories of exploring the city, walking the Szabadság híd at night. 

(“The light reflects on the Danube and makes the city look like something in a fairytale, Nile.” 

“What does Szab- what does it mean?” Nile could never properly pronounce the name, but she tried.

“Liberty Bridge.” Her dad would smile. “We’ll go one day.”)

Nile left Nicky, Joe, and Andy at the flat, wanting some time to herself. Not that she didn’t love the surprise of celebrating her birthday, but after seven months of Booker’s absence, the celebration feels a bit hollow. Andy stops Nile at the door, pressing a phone into her hand.

“I’ll be careful. Promise.” Nile tries to hand the phone back.

“There’s one number on it.” Andy swallows, jaw clenching. “I know you miss him, too.”

“Andy--”

Andy brings a hand to the back of Nile’s neck, which has become such a welcoming gesture of comfort to Nile. She wraps an arm across Andy’s shoulders, glad that Andy cannot see the sadness, the desperation on her face right now. 

Andy squeezes Nile’s neck gently, whispering in her ear, “tell him I say hi.”

Her dad was right, gazing at the water in wonder at how beautiful the Danube looks with all the lights reflecting off it from Liberty Bridge and the city. Her eyes look at the horizon just as the sun goes down, clutching the phone as tight as she can.

She taps on the saved number, just as Andy had said, waiting… waiting… waiting…

“ _Joyeux anniversaire, mon amie_ ,” Booker answers.

Nile sucks in a breath, pressing the phone harder to her ear, unable to speak.

“Are you going to say anything?” Booker laughs nervously, clearing his throat. “The phone’s my present to you. I didn’t want you to think--”

“I know,” Nile whispers. “I don’t hate you.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“That’s not - I just mean--” Nile inhales, exhales. “I’m still waiting for an apology, you know.” 

Booker chuckles. “Nile,” he says, exhaling softly. “I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making me work for it?”

“You’re damn right.” 

“That’s good. Take no shit, not even from me, okay? I am--” Booker clears his throat. “I should have talked to them, right? I should have just talked. My wife said I was terrible at it, and she was right. I thought living as long as I have, as long as I’m going to, I’d learn to be better, but clearly I am not better at it. I never, _ever_ meant for this to happen to you. You didn’t deserve any of this, especially the shit you wound up getting dragged into. _S'il-te-plaît, pardonne-moi_.”

Nile walks along the bridge looking at the water, listening to Booker breathing. Booker goes quiet on the other end. 

“Do all of you normally switch languages like that?”

“Old habits, and uh, it’s sort of, a uh -- nervous tick.”

“You mean when you’re apologizing?”

Booker laughs.

“I do.” Nile leans over the side of the bridge, staring at the water. “I forgive you.”

Booker clears his throat. Nile thinks she hears him sniffle, but she’ll never tell.

“Learning French, yeah?” Booker asks. “I could… help.”

Nile smiles. “If I need help, I’ll be sure to ask. Everyone else is teaching me enough to carry a conversation.”

“Don’t forget to know how to ask where the bathroom’s at.”

Nile laughs, shaking her head. “Hey, what's your name?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, Joe is Yusuf, and Nicky is Nicolò. Andy is Andromache. But you… who are you?” 

“Sebastian le Livre, deserter of Napoleon’s army.”

Nile starts walking again, confused by what Booker just admitted. “Deserter? You said you fought for Napoleon.”

“Looks like you’ve got some reading ahead of you, yeah?”

“I guess so.” Nile stops walking, squeezing her eyes shut. “Can I--”

“Keep the phone,” he says. Nile can barely hear him when he says it. “If you want to.”

“I do,” Nile says quickly. She takes a deep breath, opening her eyes, and the weight on her chest is gone. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sebastian le Livre. And hey, Andy says hi.”

“ _Merci et bonne nuit, mon amie_.”

***~*~***

Andy nods when Nile gets back, the phone tucked safely in her back pocket. Nicky kisses her forehead, wishing her a good night’s rest, and Joe gives her a full body hug, murmuring warm Italian sentiments in her ear.

She shuts the door to her room, immediately kneeling at the end of her bed to hide the phone, but there’s a text from Booker: **_do not hesitate to contact me. 100 years or not, I will find you if you need help._ **

Nile can’t sleep, so she grabs her iPad, fingers typing _Sebastian le Livre_ into Google search.

***~*~***

A year goes by, and it’s Nile’s death day. 

Andy sits with her in bed, holding her hand as they share in the welcome silence.

Nicky brings her a tray of food, and Nile is still in bed, staring out the open window. She misses her family so much, and there’s nothing she can do. Copley sends her updates once in a while, but it makes the hurt that much worse.

“ _Mi dispiace che tu stia male_.” Nicky rubs her back, looking over his shoulder at Joe leaning on the doorway. They share a sad look. Joe is in her line of vision, his forehead touching hers, and it nearly breaks Nile. " _Siamo qui, amica mia_.” Nile squeezes Joe’s hand, nods at Nicky. She doesn’t need to say anything.

Hours go by when Booker’s phone vibrates under Nile’s pillow with a text:

**As wave is driven by wave**

**And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead,**

**So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows,**

**Always, for ever and new. What was before**

**Is left behind; what never was is now;**

**And every passing moment is renewed.**

**Ovid?** She texts back.

 **Reacquainting myself with Metamorphoses. I know what today is**. **I know they are taking care of you. The first one fucking sucks.**

She laughs at that, starting to cry. And she can’t stop crying. Suddenly, Booker is calling, the phone vibrating and buzzing loudly in her hand.

“I’m here. I’m here.” She sniffles loudly.

“I was worried. You weren’t texting back.”

“Sebastian le Livre has a heart after all.” Nile knows how that sounds, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m just upset.”

“Don’t worry you can’t hurt my feelings.”

They both laugh at that.

“They would hang deserters in your time.”

“They did indeed.” Booker pauses. “You found me?”

“Not much. I’ll ask Copley for more information.” Nile smiles when Booker laughs, praising her cunning behavior. “ _Bonne nuit, soldat_.”

Booker chuckles, humming in praise. “ _Jusqu'à la prochaine fois_.”

  
  


***~*~***

It takes Nile fifteen years to admit her secret to Nicky and Joe.

They share a look that has her casting a worried look at Andy. Will she be exiled too?

Nicky and Joe speak quickly and over each other in rushed tones. They’re speaking an Italian that is ancient to her, that she hasn’t learned because they have their secrets too, but right now it’s making Nile feel skittish.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I know I should’ve told you--”

“We knew already,” Joe says with a smirk. “The books, _amica mia_ ,” he says affectionately. “Most of them belong to Booker.”

Nile looks at Nicky who simply smiles, nodding at her. Her shelves are full of art history books she’s collected over the years, how-to this and that, some comics, and first edition classics. All from Booker.

(“Keep them safe for me.”

“For how long?”

“Nile, you know how long.” 

He chided her like a brother would a sister.)

Nile can’t think straight so she grabs her keys, wallet, and the phone, walking out onto the streets of Oslo. She’s walking with conviction, eyes straight ahead, but still tracking her surroundings and the people passing by. She pulls out the phone, waiting for Booker’s familiar voice on the other end.

“ _Sorella_.”

“ _Fratello_ ,” Nile greets, and proceeds to rant in Italian for half an hour.

When she’s finally out of breath from talking for so long it’s beginning to turn dusk. She sighs as she keeps walking until she finds a table outside a local café.

“Still there?” Nile tentatively asks.

“I’m cooking, but I am, yes.”

“So… thoughts?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, Nile, besides you have vastly underestimated how observant they are.”

“I’m not surprised you’re taking their side,” Nile mutters under her breath.

“ _N_ _on ci sono parti, sorella_.”

“All right, all right.” Nile sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. “Thank you for the copy of Metamorphoses, by the way. Yours, I’m sure?”

“I have had enough of Ovid. Now it is your turn.” 

Nile can hear him clanking around in his kitchen, and she’s struck by a distant memory of baking cookies with her brother. Christmas lights twinkling everywhere, their house full of love and laughter. 

“You with me, _sorella_?”

They started calling one another sister and brother a long time ago. It brings a smile to her face when his French accent slips into the Italian. 

“ _Si, fratello. Cosa stai cucinando_?”

“Beignets!”

She sits back, watching the sunset while Booker explains the complicated recipe he had found, thinking fondly of those chocolate chip and toffee cookies she’d bake with her brother.

***~*~***

Ten more years pass, and another birthday rolls around for Nile. She stopped celebrating them after that first one back in Budapest. Birthdays stopped having a meaning, and there wasn’t anything to really celebrate anymore. Immortality makes you old and cynical, Nile learned quickly.

“Hey, hey,” Nile calls out, smelling something delicious. “Is Nicky making pizza?”

“ _Si, si, si_!” Joe yells at her from the kitchen making Nile laugh. 

Andy had been gone for months, which was typical of Andy. They all needed their space every now and then, but it didn’t take long for them to find their way back to each other. All of them knew Andy would be gone longer this time, and the reason was Quynh. Nile met Quynh a long, long time ago, guns drawn on one another, but in a flash and a wink Quynh fled. 

Nile hopes Andy is okay, wherever she may be. Whomever she may be with.

Nicky, Joe, and Nile found a villa in Italy that was perfect for them. They come and go as they please, and it isn’t surprising to come home sometimes to find a note from Nicky and Joe that says _Malta_. It was only last week that Nicky and Joe had returned, again, from another long trip to Malta, covering Nile’s face in silly kisses, Joe swinging her around in a big bear hug.

Joe kisses her temple when she comes into the kitchen, her stomach rumbling loudly when Nicky pulls the pizza from the brick oven.

“ _Buon compleanno, amore_ ,” Joe says fondly. 

“Damn, I had forgotten.” Nile hops up on the counter, pulling a knee up to her chest. “Is that why there’s pizza?” 

“Yes, but there is always time for pizza.” Nicky grins, accepting Joe’s kiss, humming happily. “There’s a package for you.” He cuts a glance at Joe then looks to Nile. “From Booker.”

Nile looks at Joe who nods, pointing over to the table by the window. There’s a long box laying there waiting for her, and now she can’t recall the last time she spoke to Booker. She slides off the counter, taking her time as she slowly walks over to the table. She can feel Nicky and Joe watching but not watching. Her hands slide across the brown paper covering the box, fingers catching on a small card attached.

“ _Pour toi, ma soeur_ ,” she says, hands clinging tight to the card.

Joe is standing beside her letting his shoulder bump hers. “Come, come! We’ve been ready to see it ever since it arrived.”

Nile sets the card aside, and she’s nervous now, carefully taking off the paper. Joe whistles softly when the wooden box is revealed. It’s beautifully polished with her name carved on top. Her finger traces the cursive lines of her name, smiling to herself, knowing Booker carved it himself. 

“ _Che cos'è?_ ” Nicky asks.

Nile lifts the lid, her eyes immediately going wide.

Joe curses in a mix of Arabic and Italian, looking at Nile. 

Nile’s hand grips the curved handle of the sabre, lifting it slowly out of the box, staring at the equally curved, silver blade her eyes meeting Joe’s.

“That’s his weapon,” Joe says, awed. “From before.”

“You look beautiful.” Nile looks over at Nicky, who’s smiling beatifically. “It suits you, _guerriera_.”

Nile can’t stop looking at the box while they all eat their weight in pizza. Nicky and Joe are too quiet and Nile doesn’t know what to say. Later, they’re all sitting out on the balcony sipping wine, Joe rubbing Nicky’s feet while Nicky looks close to falling asleep. Nile can feel Joe’s gaze on her, and she knows he wants to ask.

And just as he opens his mouth, the phone rings. Nile has been keeping it in her day bag, just in case. Nile looks at them both, the phone still ringing. Booker waiting.

“Go on,” Joe whispers.

Nile doesn’t reach it in time to answer, but Booker’s already calling again. 

“ _Feliz Aniversário_ , _minha_ _irmã_.”

Nile can’t speak.

“Nile, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“You just - you just _give me_ your _Napoleonic weapon_?!”

“I can do what I want with my things, Nile. You are my sister. You deserve my sword.”

Nile slides down the wall, sitting on the floor in the hallway. She’s crying. She hopes Nicky and Joe can’t hear, but when she looks out to the balcony they’re in their own world. Booker reminds her of her own brother, maybe that’s why the distance between them hurts. She didn’t lose one brother back then, she lost two. 

“Nile, please stop crying.”

“It isn’t fair. I didn’t get a chance to spend any of this time with you.”

“Our time will come, _sorella_ , and you will grow aggravated with me just as they have.”

More tears slip down Nile’s cheeks. “Immortal life isn’t fair.”

Booker barks out a laugh. “Nothing about this life is fair. Do not worry - the day will come when we can spar as true fighters. I look forward to watching you wield my weapon better than I did.”

“How long do I have to wait?” 

“You know the answer, Nile.”

It doesn’t mean she has to like it.

***~*~***

It is year sixty-five of Booker’s exile, and Nile is standing on Liberty Bridge in Budapest--

Waiting.

She’s got a long, thin black bag slung over a shoulder, fidgeting in boots that Andy gave her as a Christmas present long ago.

“Soldiers do not fidget.”

Nile inhales sharply, a smile splitting across her face as she turns around.

They hug each other for a long, long time. She never thought the day would come, but it’s finally, _finally_ here. Nile and Booker have to make the most of their time, because this day took _a lot_ of coaxing on Nicky’s part. 

(“Give them a day, Joe. For me.” And Nile knew Joe couldn’t say no to Nicky. His kindness the world is unworthy of, and Joe’s weakness.)

Andy doesn’t know, or maybe she does, but none of them have seen her in years. Nile prays every day that she will see Andy again, knowing Andy would scoff (in a loving Andy way) at the prayers.

Nile still clings to Booker, and he only hugs her tighter.

“Glad you could make it, _fratello_.”

Booker pulls back to smack a kiss to her forehead. Nile shoves him, making them both laugh.

“Well, I have all the time in the world.”

Nile tries to hold back the sadness that makes her feel, but Booker tuts at her.

“Do you have it?” Booker asks.

Nile unzips her bag to show him the sabre tucked safely inside.

“ _Pronto_?”

Nile and Booker grip the other’s forearm.

“I am ready to kick your ass,” Nile promises.

For today, time is on their side.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything in 2 years; 2 WHOLE YEARS. But, The Old Guard has grabbed hold of me, and I couldn't stop thinking about Booker and Nile. How he was the only one who said he felt her die. And guys, she was willing to let him off with an _apology_. I am soft.
> 
> If you read this, please know that I am grateful. Comments are wonderful.
> 
> I used Google Translate so please forgive me if I fudged anything up. They're easy enough to look up, but Google Translate can't always be trusted. For instance, _Non ci sono parti, sorella_ should be "there are no sides, sister." **Edit:** Thank you to my friend, Gabs, for correcting my French translations!
> 
>  **Update July 30:** Upon more research (and because I'm trying to get my hands on the graphic novels), I found out that Booker was hanged for deserting Napoleon's army, which is how he realized he couldn't die! I did my own research, and yes, firing squads were also utilized, but for the sake of my story I wanted to go along with established canon.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ionsquare.


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